


Never Falling Back Alone

by seekrest



Series: Spideychelle Bingo [6]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: (what else is new?), Complicated Relationships, Don’t look at me, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is a Mess, break ups and makeups, its just me and my whims now, meet again after high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26304247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Peter thinks it’s been years since he’s ever encountered a piece of art that’s captured his attention so fully, trying to remember if there ever had been such a thing.He’s so entranced by it that he doesn’t even notice the person walking up to him, the clack of her heels mixing in with the chatter of the gallery guests around him.He’s only broken out of his spell when she speaks, a voice so familiar that he would recognize it anywhere when she says, “Hey Parker.”
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Spideychelle Bingo [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1845310
Comments: 80
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

Peter ran a hand over his face, the subway car rattling as he held onto the bar above him. 

He was exhausted, a weariness he could feel deep in his bones. Logically, he knew it could be because of the never-ending cycle of work, patrol and back again for the past three weeks straight. The Maggia were on the move, _again_ \- giving Peter the sense that whatever it is that they’re planning, it was only a sign of more late nights and early mornings for Spider-Man.

Yet there was something else just on the periphery, the exhaustion traveling up and down his spine borne more of the weight from _years_ of doing this - the knowledge that there would never be an end in sight. 

A small part of Peter whispered that there was an end, the only inevitable conclusion to a life spent fighting crime in the middle of the night. 

Memories rush back to him of a bridge, cold water and a dark night made emptier for what he lost. Peter’s too still and too constrained by the packed subway car to dwell about that now, saving that particular train of thought for when he’s swinging through the city and too physically engaged to be moody. 

He lived in a city of millions and yet every night that passed, Peter couldn’t help but feel more and more alone. 

The subway stutters, slowing it’s arrival to the next station - the woman behind him bumping into him and apologizing profusely as she does. 

He smiles at her half-heartedly, the woman blinking at him in surprise before her face transforms into a shy smile.

She’s cute, brunette with her hair cut in a style Peter’s sure in fashion but just looks cool from his perspective. 

“Sorry, I’m-- sorry,” she says, sounding a little breathless as Peter just grins. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Peter says with a smile, hoping it’s reassuring even if he’s sure the bags under his eyes would make him look more like a raccoon than a person. He’s glad the lab had a presentation today, if only because he’s dressed in something far more presentable than the usual jeans and hoodie that he usually wore.

“I’m Katherine,” she says in a rush, smiling a bit more brightly as the subway comes to a slow, “but my friends call me Kitty.”

“Are we friends?” Peter asks, Kitty’s eyes widening and mouth opening before her lips curve into a smile once more.

“We don’t have to be,” she says, just when the subway comes to a stop. 

It would be Parker’s luck that this stop would be _his_ , scrambling to figure out a way to keep the conversation going without coming across as a creep - already anticipating backtracking to this stop even if he was running late. He loosens his grip on the bar ahead of him, Peter opening his mouth to say something when she digs something out of her pocket - flashing a card in front of him.

“This is my stop.”

“Call me.” 

They both speak at the same time, Peter letting out a small huff just as people start to rush out. 

He takes the card, winking as she laughs - hoping he’s coming across as seductive not awkward as he says, “Will do, Kitty.”

He feels a rush as he steps away from her, the last thing Peter sees before he ducks out of the subway car being Kitty’s flirty smile.

* * *

Peter exhales out some cold air as soon as he walks up from the subway steps, blowing warm air into his hands and regretting that he’d forgotten to bring a coat with him to work today.

Kitty’s card - a business card - is still in his hand, looking down at it only for his eyes to widen when he reads what’s across from it. 

_Attorney at Law? Damn_ , Peter thinks, smiling as he slips the card into his pocket - rubbing his hands together once more as he turns towards where Ned’s apartment was. 

Harry was going to flip, he always did - pissed as hell that Peter could somehow have a revolving door of people interested in him despite his less than stellar track record with _keeping_ anyone around. 

Peter just smirks, shoving his hands in his pocket as he walks down the sidewalk - debating how soon would be too soon to text Kitty when his phone buzzes.

He slips it out of his back pocket, glancing down at the notification. 

**Ned** : Where are you?

Peter grins, tapping out a reply.

 **Peter** : Like ten minutes away. Miss me already?

The text bubbles on Ned’s end light up immediately, Peter frowning when he gets his replies.

 **Ned** : Dude always but you can’t come here yet!

 **Ned** : Nothing’s ready. fifteen more minutes!

 **Ned** : Plus I think Sonya is gonna cry if you show up before she’s finished with her artichoke dip.

Peter snorts, shaking his head as he walks ahead of the sidewalk.

 **Peter** : It’s not like I’m even gonna eat it. She knows I hate the artichoke dip.

 **Ned** : You love the artichoke dip!!

 **Ned** : You eat it every time she comes over!

Peter laughs, deftly avoiding someone right in his pathway when Ned’s next reply comes in.

 **Ned** : I mean it dude. PLEASE. Give us like… twenty minutes. 

**Peter** : You just said fifteen.

 **Ned** : Sonya told me she still has to get ready. She looks great to me but 🤷🏽

Peter shakes his head once again, sighing as he tells Ned that he’ll just bum around a coffee shop until they’re ready.

Ned’s string of thumbs up and fireworks emojis are enough to make Peter laugh once again, slipping his phone back into his pocket and feeling at a loss for what to do. 

Peter thought that it was a little silly, the elaborate “grown up dinner parties” that Sonya was absolutely insistent on at least once a month. But Sonya was nice enough, sweet and funny and a perfect match for Ned - Peter smiling when he thinks of how happy Ned was anytime he talked about her.

Kitty’s flirty smile from the subway comes back to him then, a swooping feeling in his gut at the possibilities - shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks forward a bit more aimlessly.

For all of Harry’s jokes, Peter couldn’t remember the last time he went on a real _date_ \- the late night hookups being fun but a little empty when there was an inescapable part of Peter that wanted more. 

He’d had that with Gwen, once upon a time - the pain of her loss still an ache deep in his chest but not nearly as crushing as it had been those first few years. It would always be there, Peter was far too accustomed to grief to know that it would sit in the hollow of his heart forever. 

Almost five years since she died and some deep part of Peter still wondered if a part of himself - and any chance of happiness he would ever have - had died right along with her. 

Peter shakes his whole body at that, focusing more on the street and the buildings around him - doing a double take when he sees white studio lights billowing out from what he had thought was an abandoned storefront.

There’s people milling around the entrance, a few coming in and going out as Peter looks around - catching the sign above the doorway. 

PHASE AND FURY: AN EXPRESSION IN THREE PARTS

Peter’s immediately intrigued, looking around for some ticket taker only for someone to catch his eye as they walk out. 

“What is this?” Peter asks, the guy throwing a thumb behind him as he says, “Art exhibit. You should check it out. First free one I’ve seen that’s actually worth a damn.”

Peter laughs, the man bundling himself up in his coat - only for Peter to shiver once more as he looks up at the gallery doors. 

He used to dabble in photography back in college, a hobby that Gwen had loved and that he’d left behind after she died. The closest coffee shop was another three blocks away, Peter shifting his weight back and forth. 

Ned had asked for another twenty minutes, knowing him and Sonya well enough that it would likely be closer to thirty or even forty-five. Peter was cold, the exhibit was free and considering the unexpected time that he had in front of him - the open door seemed like the best option. 

Later Peter would wonder if maybe there was something else drawing him to the exhibit, some invisible pull of the universe that had perfectly aligned for him to be there. 

But Peter didn’t think of that then, standing up straighter and taking the few steps he needs to walk into the exhibit.

* * *

Peter’s been in the gallery for ten minutes, meandering around some of the more abstract pieces and studying a modern sculpture that he desperately wants to take a picture of but won’t out of respect for the artist only to do a double take when he sees the painting in the middle of the room. 

He’s struck with the oddest feeling of deja vu, squinting at it for a moment before walking towards it. It’s another abstract piece, black and white with dashes of color in a way that Peter would think was almost intentional. 

There’s something immediately haunting about it yet simultaneously deeply familiar, Peter staring at it in awe as he tries to place why that was the case. 

His mind runs through the art exhibits that he’s been through over the years, a memory of Gwen’s exasperated smile as he pulled her towards yet another hole in the wall photography exhibition. 

Peter swallows down the lump in his throat at that, shaking the memory of Gwen twice in one night as he studies the painting once more. 

He knows it, in a way he can’t fully explain - putting his hands in his pockets as he stares. 

It’s beautiful, the brushstrokes appearing so casual and yet knowing what he does of art that they were anything but - amazed at how much power emanated from the piece while still giving off a sense of vulnerability that stirs something in his gut.

Peter thinks it’s been years since he’s ever encountered a piece of art that’s captured his attention so fully, trying to remember if there ever _had_ been such a thing. 

He’s so entranced by it that he doesn’t even notice the person walking up to him, the clack of her heels mixing in with the chatter of the gallery guests around him. 

He’s only broken out of his spell when she speaks, a voice so familiar that he would recognize it anywhere when she says, “Hey Parker.”

Peter’s head snaps towards her, Michelle Jones looking back at him with her arms folded together and a smile on her face. 

“MJ?” Peter asks incredulously, surprised and shocked as he looks at her up and down. 

Peter can’t even remember the last time he’s seen her, the few times they passed each other in the summer after their breakup back in high school being just as awkward as the two of them had been back then. 

It’d been over ten years since then Peter thinks, Michelle moving off to Harvard for college and out of his life presumably forever - something that had hurt at the time but now paled in comparison to the heartache he’s known since then. 

She looked amazing, a purple long sleeved mini-dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and reflected the studio lights in a way that was absolutely mesmerizing. Peter catches hold of himself, meeting her eyes once again only to see the smirk on her face transformed into an amused smile.

“Hi,” he near-whispers before clearing his throat. “Hi, sorry. Hi wow-- how’s-- how’ve you been?”

“Good, really good actually,” she says, smiling at Peter as she nods towards the painting in front of him. “What do you think?”

The penny finally drops, Peter’s mouth opening as he laughs - looking back to the painting and then back to her as he says, “Is this yours?”

Michelle smiles once again, the pieces all falling into place as he says, “I knew I recognized it.”

“I hope not,” Michelle says, sounding a little indignant as Peter laughs again, “This is an original piece.”

“Are all of these yours or--”

“No, it’s uh, part of my MFA program. This is our final exhibit for the term,” Michelle says, Peter looking around the gallery once more before bringing his attention back to her. 

“MFA huh?” Peter asks, Michelle giving him a look as he says, “I thought you wanted to go into law.” 

“I did,” Michelle says with the kind of deadpan he hadn’t realized he missed, “until I realized that law school is just as much a game of _who_ you know rather than what.” 

“The art world’s different?” Peter asks, smiling at the look on her face as she says, “Not really. But this is a hell of a lot more fun.”

Peter laughs again, nodding as he says, “Yeah I uh, can’t argue with that.” 

Michelle unfolds her arms then, turning more to Peter as she says, “How’ve you been? I know we didn’t really keep in touch after…” she trails off, Peter shrugging it off and waving a hand. 

It feels awkward for a moment, Peter remembering their breakup with crystal clarity just as much as Michelle seems to from the look on her face. 

He scratches the back of his neck, Michelle’s smile almost radiant in the studio lights as he says, “We were idiots back then huh?”

“No, _that_ was definitely all you,” Michelle says, Peter laughing this time so loudly that a few people look back at him as he brings his hand back down. 

The sting of their breakup felt earth-shattering at the time and the gulf between them impossible, Peter letting his hurt and his pride get the best of him when he let her go for good. They’d weathered being snapped from existence, a European trip to hell and the terror of his identity being revealed all before he’d even turned seventeen. 

It seemed silly in retrospect, the prospect of long-distance being the thing that finally broke them apart not just as a couple but as friends - Michelle having been one of the few people he’d allowed into his inner circle that he hadn’t lived to regret it. 

Peter’s lived through too much and for too long to dwell on the past now, not when it was clear that Michelle didn’t hold a grudge against him for what happened when they were kids anymore than he did. 

Not when Peter now lived with far worse to regret. 

“So how are you?” Michelle asks again, bringing Peter out of his thoughts. 

“Good, not as good as you,” he says, gesturing to the gallery as Michelle laughs - a sound that immediately lightens something in his chest. “I’m uh, working at Octavius Labs now.”

“And the other thing?” She asks, her voice light as Peter smirks. 

“Well if you’re living here now, you know how it is.” 

Michelle gives him a knowing look, Peter just smiling at her only to see something shift in her expression. 

“I’m sorry, for not saying anything when I moved back.”

Peter goes to tell her it’s fine, only to see her eyes soften and to feel like the wind is knocked out of him as she says, “I heard what happened. I’m— I’m really sorry, Pete.”

He immediately understands that she’s talking about Gwen, that even if she couldn’t possibly know what had really happened that night that she at least _did_ know who Spider-Man was. It wouldn’t be that hard to know from mutual friends or even social media that Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy were dating. 

It had made Peter’s life hell in more ways than one in the weeks after Gwen died. 

Yet there’s more to it, Peter can feel the guilt emanating off of her - something that isn’t hers to have considering that by the time Gwen died, they not only hadn’t talked for almost five years but had left each other on bad terms to put it mildly. 

But he can see that Michelle is looking for an absolution that she doesn’t need, Peter understanding better than anyone what carrying such a burden does to a person even if he can’t comprehend why she feels it. 

He just smiles, seeing the moment when she accepts his acknowledgement as he says, “So what’s your piece about?”

Michelle catches the segue for what it is, half-smiling as she turns back to the painting and says, “What do _you_ think it‘s about?”

“Isn’t that cheating?” Peter asks, Michelle eyes sparkling as her half-smile turns into a grin.

“Art is subjective, Parker. Come on, tell me what you think.”

“I think…” Peter begins, crossing one arm across his chest and putting the other to his chin - a mocking gesture of an art critic that just makes her laugh as he finally says, “That any interpretation I have would pale in comparison to the artist’s intention.”

“That’s just bullshit so you can ask me again what it’s about,” Michelle says, folding her own arms again as Peter unfurls his.

He shrugs his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pocket once again.

“Did it work?”

Michelle smiles at him, rolling her eyes to signify that he’s won this round as she says, “Fine you dork.”

As Michelle begins her explanation, Peter’s entranced - the rest of the gallery fading away as Michelle begins. 

It was the easiest thing to listen to her talk about her work, Peter watching in amazement as she got more animated - relaxed and carefree in a way that is so distinctly Michelle and yet nothing like she had ever been when he knew her.

He had a thousand questions for her - what she’s been up to, what brought her back, the biggest one being why she hadn’t said anything when she did. But Peter immediately chides himself for that, knowing that it was just as much his fault for not keeping in touch with her.

The fact that she’s been in the city all this time, or at the very least for the last few years aches at something in him - the easy way they fell back into their banter from high school making him thinking they could’ve been friends again all this time. 

Peter’s so distracted by her words and his own thoughts that he doesn’t even notice when hisphone starts buzzing in his pocket.

“You should get that,” she says, pointedly looking down to his pocket as Peter reaches for it. He’s surprised to see that there’s several texts and even a few missed calls, all from Ned. He immediately feels bad for missing all of them only to start scrolling through them, a frown forming on his face as he does.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, looking at the final message that arrives, “I uh, I was on my way to meet Ned tonight, him and his girlfriend have this dinner thing.” He looks at Michelle, giving her an awkward smile and going to apologize only for her to say, “Glad to hear you two losers are still friends.”

Peter laughs, nodding his head and quickly typing out a reply as he says, “Yeah, can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He realizes what he’s said the moment it’s out of his mouth, words all too similar to what one of their last conversations had been like.

If Michelle catches on to it, she has the grace not to acknowledge it as she begins. “If you have to go--” 

“No uh,” Peter shakes his head, “actually his girlfriend got called in for work. She’s a nurse. Which, it’s kind of funny, they told me to wait to show up anyway cause they weren’t finished making dinner so it kind of works out…” Peter trails off when he catches Michelle's amused smile, feeling his cheeks flush as he slips his phone back in his pocket. 

“I mean, for both of us. It’s really nice to see you again, MJ.” 

Michelle looks taken aback by that, only to smile again as she says, “Nice to see you too, Parker.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Peter swallowing something down in his throat only for the two of them to try and speak at the same time.

“Do you wanna—“

“I’ll be—“

Peter smiles, putting a hand up and motioning for her as he says, “You go first.”

Michelle presses her lips together, laughing as if he had missed out on some private joke as she says, “I was gonna say, the exhibit’s gonna run for another hour but we could get something to eat after.”

She twists her hands together, a tell Peter recognizes from high school for when she was nervous as she says, “If you want.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s— that’d be great. I mean,” he shrugs, “no plans now.”

Peter immediately winces, shaking his head as he says, “I didn’t mean that like—“

“It’s fine, Parker,” Michelle says, looking more like she did when Peter knew her best as she smirks, “you still have terrible taste in pizza?”

“Pineapple is a perfectly legitimate topping, MJ,” Peter says, Michelle laughing at him as he does. 

“So still terrible then, got it.”

Peter rolls his eyes, Michelle’s face breaking out into an actual grin as she says, “Sal’s is a good place, not too far from here.”

“Oh yeah, I know Sal’s,” he says, Michelle raising an eyebrow as she asks, “You live around here?”

Peter makes a face. “ _No_ , only Ned’s the traitor who jumped boroughs. Why, do _you_?”

Michelle looks guilty once again, less for serious reasons but Peter thinking its was hilarious and kind of cute at the same time as she says, “Don’t remind me.”

“You’re getting onto me about pineapple on my pizza and you live in _Brooklyn_?” Peter whispers conspiratorially, Michelle immediately shushing him - only for Peter to smile.

“Oh how the tables have turned.”

“Whatever. I take it back, I’ll go to Sal’s by myself.”

Peter snorts, Michelle’s eyes softening once again as she looks at him. 

There’s something there, as if she wants to tell him something that’s right at the tip of her tongue - only for Peter to see someone waving to her out of the corner of his eye.

They both turn and see a very tall woman impatiently waving to Michelle, beckoning her over to corner.

“Duty calls,” Michelle says with a sigh.

“I’ll be here,” Peter says, Michelle raising an eyebrow as she says, “You sure? You have a habit of running off.”

The jab stings but barely, Michelle realizing her double meaning in the same amount of time that Peter recognizes that it’s unintentional. Before she can try and apologize, Peter shakes his head and say, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He says it so determinedly that it takes her back a little, looking like she wants to say more only for the woman in the background to wave even more furiously toward her.

“Okay,” Michelle replies, searching his face before saying, “See you in a little bit.”

She turns without saying another word, Peter watching her as she does - struck with the memory of the last time he’d seen her do that. 

He shakes that away, turning back to the painting - already feeling that the next hour would be one of the shortest and yet longest of his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know I just finished a [meet again after high school fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25509826/chapters/61888900) what about it. 
> 
> This story is inspired by this [beautiful art](https://iovewords.tumblr.com/post/621809177536462848/day-4-of-spideychelleweek-meeting-again-after) by iovewords and it’s been living in my head for months and now we’re here.
> 
> I love it when people scream at me in the comments, especially at the clownery in thinking I’ll only have two chapters but shh we won’t talk about that. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [tumblr](https://seek-rest.tumblr.com).


	2. Chapter 2

“You are _disgusting_. Truly just vile.”

Peter grins before taking a massive bite of his pizza, Michelle wrinkling her nose in disgust as he shoves yet another bite into his mouth. 

Sal’s is just as good as he remembered it, the cook behind the counter waving to him in surprise and Michelle looking at him in amusement.

“Do you know _everyone_?” She’d asked, Peter playfully winking at her as he paid for his meal. “Only the important ones.” 

She’d laughed at that, the two of them falling into a comfortable banter as they waited for their food. 

Michelle told him all about her plans for law school, the grind through three years of something that she was good at but didn’t particularly enjoy. Because it was Michelle, she was easily offered a job at a prestigious law firm - one that she accepted only for a few months into it to realize that she didn’t want to do this for the rest of her life.

“What about a non-profit?” Peter had asked as soon as their food had arrived, Michelle shrugging nonchalantly as she said, “I could but that would defeat the purpose. I don’t actually _like_ doing law so good cause or not, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life committing myself to something I don’t even enjoy.”

Peter thought that was perfectly logical, especially since he was in no position to judge. The gig he has at Octavius’ is far from a prestigious one, Michelle asking him questions in return. 

As the two of them ate their food, Peter filled in the relatively monotonous scope of his life for the past few years save for one - the dark, gaping hole that Gwen’s death had left. 

Michelle is too observant not to pick up on it but polite enough not to press, Peter now finishing off the last slice of his extra large pizza as they sat in a comfortable silence. 

It was nice, being around Michelle again - Peter had truly forgotten how easy it was to hang around her. Then again, Peter thinks - the last time the two of them had spent any length of time with each other had been far from pleasant. 

He wants to apologize now, for how callous and prideful that he’d been about her concerns - especially in light of everything that he’d lost in the last few years. Michelle seems to want to say something as well, though Peter’s not sure of what - both of them dancing around something but being inhibited from doing so either because of how much time has passed or because of the busy din of the restaurant. 

That’s answered for Peter when Michelle takes a sip of her drink, settling the glass down before saying, “You wanna get out of here?” 

“Hmm?” Peter asks, swallowing the last bit of his pizza as Michelle’s fingers tap against the glass. If Peter didn’t know any better, he would say she almost looks nervous - picking up the way her heartbeat spikes as she says, “I don’t live too far from here.”

Peter’s eyes widen slightly, Michelle smirking at him as she says, “Relax, I’m not trying to seduce you.”

He laughs, Michelle’s smirk turning into a smile. “I’m just saying, it sounds like your plans are cancelled and it’s been nice, getting to catch up. It’s just a little…” she looks around the busy restaurant, Peter immediately understanding her meaning as he nods. 

“Yeah, I uh, I’ve missed you too.”

“I didn’t say anything about missing you,” Michelle says, Peter laughing again as she grins. 

Peter leans in anyway, barely holding back the smile on his face at how her heartbeat races as he does when he says, “I don’t know, MJ. You are the one inviting me over to your place.”

He raises his eyebrows suggestively, Michelle rolling her eyes as she says, “Forget it. Invitation revoked.”

Peter scoffs, folding his arms and leaning them against the table. “Come on, MJ. Really?”

“I’m just messing with you,” she says - a fluttering in his stomach that he hasn’t felt in ages as she says, “But that’s strike one.”

“What happens if I strike out?” Peter asks cheekily, Michelle leaning in - Peter’s own heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest from the way she’s looking at him. 

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I don’t like my odds,” Peter says, working to swallow down the odd feeling in the back of his throat - wondering what the hell overcame him to be so shamelessly flirting with his high school ex-girlfriend. 

But Michelle is just as into it, smirking as she shrugs. “It is what it is, Parker.”

“Ruthless, absolutely ruthless. You sure you don’t want to be a lawyer?” He asks. 

Michelle laughs, the sound of it twisting Peter into knots - a warmth flowing all throughout him at the sound. 

* * *

“So _this_ is how the other half lives,” Peter says with a whistle, looking around Michelle’s apartment. Peter can begrudgingly admit how nice it is, despite it being in Brooklyn and tells her as much, Michelle just laughing him off before asking him to take off his shoes. 

He obliges, the two of them falling back into a silence that’s not quite awkward but not entirely comfortable as she shows him around the apartment. 

There’s a nervous hilt to her voice, something that Peter immediately understands why considering the circumstances. 

It’s not as if either of them had planned to see each other tonight, much less ever again. Peter doesn’t hold it against her for not reaching out to him when she moved back into the city just as Peter can sense that she doesn’t for him - the invisible specter of their breakup hanging over them less because of any lingering heartbreak but purely because of just how _much_ time has passed. 

He can tell that there’s something she wants to talk to him about, Peter being a bit more self-aware than he was when he was a teenager to guess what it could be. Yet just as he’s changed since high school, so has she - Michelle seemingly withholding back the urge to impulsively ask him the question that nearly everyone did. 

He appreciates it enough that it makes him want to talk to her about it, the conversation between the two of them shifting into small talk as Michelle pours him a glass of wine. It’s still there in the background, sitting on her couch as she tells him a story about something her advisor said tonight. 

Everything in him is telling him to stay in the moment, to listen to her with rapt attention - the kind of focus that he couldn’t give to her when they were teenagers but freely can now. But it’s still there, Peter taking a long sip of his drink before sighing, Michelle looking curiously over to him.

“Am I boring you, Parker?” She asks, sounding amused even if her eyes are steadily trained on him.

Peter quickly shakes his head. “No, not at all. This-- your advisor sounds like a dick,” he says with a laugh, twisting the wine glass in his hand before setting it down on her coffee table. 

“You haven’t asked about Gwen.”

Michelle stills, Peter holding her gaze as she inhales - picking up on her heartbeat starting to beat a little faster. 

She presses her lips together, setting her own wine glass down on the coffee table before saying, “Did you want me to?”

Peter chews the inside of his cheek, letting out a soft laugh as he picks at the skin between his thumb and pointer finger - avoiding her gaze. 

“You know, for the longest time I-- I didn’t. It’s all anyone asked me, you know. After.” 

Michelle is silent, Peter pinching at the skin on his hand once more as he begins to ramble. 

“It’s all anyone ever wanted to talk about. The news, baristas, people I met on the street. I used to think the worst thing that could ever happen to me is if my identity got out.”

Peter laughs again, sharp and barely avoiding the lump in his throat as he hoarsely whispers, “I think that was worse.”

Michelle is still quiet, long enough that Peter finally glances up to meet her gaze - only to be taken aback by the apology in them as she finally whispers, “I’m so sorry.”

“MJ--”

“I heard what happened the next day. I uh, I followed a Spider-Man account. Flash’s still, I think. From before,” Michelle says, shaking her head and looking away from him. “When I saw the news, what everyone was saying about Spider-Man I almost-- I was gonna text you.” 

She looks back at him. “I’m sorry, that I didn’t. That you had to go through all of that…”

Michelle trails off, Peter shifting his gaze away from her - less because he thinks she’s right and more assaulted with the memories of the worst months, the worst _years_ of his life. 

Spider-Man had always been a relatively popular hero in the city, aside from the very vocal few. Yet the death of Gwen Stacy was like a lightning rod - the whole city being divided into two very distinct camps. 

The first being that Gwen Stacy had been murdered, collateral damage plucked from the streets - video evidence of Spider-Man picking her up off the street only to be snatched from his arms and into the Goblin’s before she was thrown off the Brooklyn Bridge - her neck snapping before she ever hit the dark and cold water below. 

The second was that Gwen Stacy was a cruel victim of circumstance - that the Goblin was already making his way to her, Spider-Man trying and eventually failing to save her - her death warrant being signed the minute the Goblin had thrown her off the bridge. 

The truth - in Peter’s eyes - was somewhere in the middle, a relentless cycle of grief and torment at the idea that while the very web he had sent out to save her had also killed her - that had he not done it, she would’ve been dead the moment she hit the water. 

It was fruitless now, for Peter to dwell on it - though that couldn’t be told to him that night.

Yet the worst part, even worse with wrestling with the death of his girlfriend - from his own making, no less - was that the life of Gwen Stacy was brought into the spotlight. 

It was fitting, a life that was as bright and brilliant as hers _should_ be celebrated - especially after such a cruel and sudden end. 

But the consequence of that was _Peter_ being brought into the spotlight as well, continuously trotted out on true crime podcasts, television specials and social media as either an unfortunate victim of Spider-Man’s crimes or the tragic boyfriend left behind from circumstances beyond his control.

The first few months after Gwen died were miserable, the grief and the guilt threatening to swallow him whole all the more consuming because of how much everyone in his life and what felt like the whole city refused to let him forget the worst night of his life. 

Everyone but Michelle - someone that Peter couldn’t rightfully say he thought of at all in the months and the years after Gwen died. 

If anything, it was a relief, though Peter didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to even think of it at the time. Michelle’s radio silence for Peter wasn’t even a blip on his radar, a mercy considering the relentless stream of texts, messages, phone calls and visits he had from anyone who had ever met him.

Yet it was clear to Peter now that for Michelle it was a burden she carried, a guilt so clearly felt in her eyes that Peter wishes he can take away. Of all the people who should feel guilt about what had happened between them, much less what had happened to Gwen - it was Peter.

“MJ—“ Peter begins, only for Michelle to tentatively reach a hand out for him.

Her touch is gentle and soothing but to Peter it feels like a jolt of electricity, looking down to her hand then back up to her eyes as she searches his.

“I’m sorry.”

This time Peter recognizes the words not as an apology, but an act of condolence - a sharp pain in Peter’s chest that makes his breath catch. 

It was rare that he felt as if anyone truly meant it when they said the words - even fewer the people he would listen to about it.

In an instant, Michelle became one of them - Peter smiling as he shifts his hand to take hers into his, squeezing it gently.

There’s a shift between them, something in the air that changes. Peter suspects this isn’t the end of the conversation for some odd reason, if anything - it feels like a beginning. Something Peter can’t make sense of considering how long it’s been since they’ve seen each other and in truth, how long it’s been since he’s talked about Gwen to anyone. 

He doesn’t say anything in response but that seems to be enough for her, squeezing his hand back before letting it go - her touch instantly a loss as she says, “You want something different to drink? Sal’s works best with some red but it’s not like they have great options there.” 

“You have a wine preference with your pizza?” Peter asks incredulously, Michelle cracking a smile as she goes to stand. “First you move to Brooklyn, then you harass my pizza preferences and now you’re saying that you’re a wine and pizza snob?”

Michelle laughs as she moves to the kitchen, Peter calling, “Damn MJ what else have I missed?”

“You sure you wanna know?” She asks, only the barest hint of teasing in her voice.

Peter looks to her, seeing something passing across her eyes that he doesn’t recognize but finds inexplicably - after all these years - that he wants to.

“Yeah,” Peter says with a smile, “I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know you see the chapter count increased.
> 
> Yes I knew this would happen.
> 
> Don’t look at me.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter’s hasn’t been drunk in years but this feels the closest to it - laughter bubbling up in his chest as Michelle rolls her eyes at him.

“You’re kidding me,” he says, Michelle rolling her eyes for the third time as he says, “You and _Flash_?” 

“It was nothing,” Michelle is quick to say, Peter just scoffing as he shakes his head in disbelief. “We were both at some club and I didn’t realize it was Flash until we…” she trails off, clearly embarrassed as Peter just grins. 

“Until you came up for _air_ ? Because you were making out with _Flash Thompson_ , MJ are you kidding me?”

“Get out. That’s strike two,” Michelle says, Peter laughing so hard that his stomach hurts.

“Strike-- I didn’t even do anything. _You_ are the one who--”

“You really wanna go for strike three already, Parker?” Michelle says with a smirk, Peter just grinning back at her before he puts a hand up.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

He bites his lip, Michelle raising an eyebrow only for Peter to break when he says, “But of all people… _Flash?”_

“Get out,” Michelle repeats but she’s laughing too - Peter finishing off his drink before settling the glass down.

Talking about Gwen unlocked something between the two of them - Peter still trying to wrap his head around the idea that she would feel guilty about something that she objectively shouldn’t. It can’t have been more than an hour since he’s arrived at Michelle’s place but it feels like a lifetime - in the best way - that moment between them serving as a jumpstart as they waded through catching up on their lives. 

Peter thinks he’s talked about Gwen more in the past hour than he has in the past few years, something that should arguably be a lot weirder under normal circumstances.

But Michelle was not just any ex-girlfriend and Peter’s life was anything but normal. 

For her part, Michelle’s own demeanor seemed to have shifted into something a bit more freer - less because of the wine they’re drinking and more from the relief that Peter didn’t hold her perceived slight against her.

It’s still bugging him - that Michelle held this in for so long - not least of which because of all the people who should feel guilty about everything that happened to Gwen, Michelle wouldn’t be among them. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, fingers tapping against the couch as her smirk turns into a curious smile.

“If it has to do with Flash…”

“No, no, I promise, I’ll lay off on that,” Peter says with a smile, only to sit up a little more as he asks, “Why did you…”

He trails off, trying to figure just where exactly he’s going with this before he presses his lips together - taking a deep breath before saying, “With Gwen, you almost looked… guilty.” 

Michelle freezes, Peter taking advantage of the silence as he pushes forward and says, “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But I don’t understand—“

“Why I cared so much?”

Peter winces, quickly shaking his head. “No, MJ. Of course not. I know you cared.”

“Did you?” She asks, Peter seeing a look in her eye that reminds him so much of that last conversation - the fight that hadn’t even really been much of a fight, leading to the breakup that the two of them had been dancing around all night just as much as they danced around Gwen.

Peter presses his lips together before exhaling out of his mouth, Michelle seemingly feeling more emboldened too by Peter’s question as she says, “Sorry, that’s not fair. It was a long time ago and—“

“I _did_ know,” Peter says, knowing he’s interrupting and sensing from the look on her face that she hated it now just as much as she hated it back when he knew her as he continues, “I did. I’m sorry, MJ. I shouldn’t have—“

“It really sucked, you know,” Michelle interjects, Peter pressing his lips firmly together to stop himself from interrupting her for the third time as she says, “I mean I’m over it now, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Peter says with a grin, Michelle smirking at him before her expression changes into something a little more sincere.

“But it did. Suck, I mean. I get it now, a lot more than I did back then,” she says with a sigh, a pensive look in her eyes that immediately reminds him of Gwen.

“I was hurt that you didn’t say goodbye. Probably more than I should’ve felt,” Michelle says as Peter winces once again, cursing the immaturity of his eighteen year old self and the stupidity that motivated him to ditch that last goodbye party. 

It wasn’t even a Spider-Man thing, though Peter is sure it’s the excuse he gave to Ned for why he didn’t go - an uncomfortable feeling twisting in his gut to see just how much this bothers her that ten years later, she still so clearly remembers it.

“I didn’t think we’d be friends so much but not…” she trails off, Peter adjusting his position on her couch so that he’s facing her better as he says, “Cold turkey?”

“Yeah,” Michelle replies, the vaguest hint of a smile on her face before it falls, “I get it though. I didn’t exactly reach out to you either.”

It becomes even more clear to Peter in that instance why her guilt over not contacting him after Gwen died was so magnified, shaking his head again as he says, “No but I was… I was a dick to you, MJ.”

“You were,” she says, the honesty underlined with the gentlest tone as she continues, “but I was kind of a dick to you too.”

Peter smirks at that before saying, “Nah, definitely was worse to you. I mean, breaking up with you a week after your birthday? Ditching your going away party? I was kind of an asshole.”

“ _Kind_ of?” Michelle asks cheekily, Peter laughing as he rubs a hand over his face.

“Yeah, okay I wouldn’t want to talk to me either,” he says, groaning inwardly at his past self’s mistakes but trying to let it go in equal measure.

Peter had made a lot of mistakes in his life. If he didn’t try to make peace with them, they would consume him. 

The first step in making peace, from Peter’s own experience and years of therapy was, to seek forgiveness if necessary.

“I am sorry, MJ. For everything, for all of it. I— I don’t really have an excuse for how I was back then,” Peter says, Michelle staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face before she tilts her head.

“I can think of a few,” she says without malice, contemplative before saying, “But if it helps, I forgive you. It really was a long time ago.”

“You’ve gotta stop saying that,” Peter says with a laugh, feeling as if the invisible heaviness between them lifted once more, “you’re making me feel old.”

“You’re twenty-eight, Parker. Don’t start thinking of joining AARP just yet.” 

He laughs but he’s hit with a sobering thought as he glanced away, one that Michelle seems to catch on too as she asks, “What are you thinking about?”

Peter flicks his eyes back to hers, debating himself for just a moment before saying, “sometimes I wonder about that.”

“About what?”

“Middle-age. Growing older,” he leans a hand against the couch, resting his head up against it as he rifles his fingers through his hair. “Sometimes I just— I wonder if I’ll…”

He trails off, being glad that for all the things that he’s seen of Michelle and how the years may have changed her - wanting to fill the silence with mindless chatter wasn't one of them. 

“I wonder sometimes if I’ll live to see it, you know?”

His voice is a lot quieter and a hell of a lot more vulnerable than he intended, but there was something about being back in Michelle’s orbit that brought that out in him - something that made him strong, made him brave, something that made him think of how much things have changed and how little has changed at all.

The Michelle he knew way back when wouldn’t have known how to handle his slip of the tongue, trying to awkwardly comfort him in her own way - something that Peter recognizes that if they were really their high school selves, he wouldn’t have said what he was thinking so openly to begin with. 

He’d lived so much in the ten years since he’d last seen her and from the sounds of it, so had she - not just the career change or the location of her apartment or her ability to joke - but something deep in her bones, a maturity that only came with time and wisdom. 

It’s a maturity Peter himself does and doesn’t feel - wondering how he’d ever been stupid enough to lose someone like Michelle in the first place, even if he knows if he hadn’t, he never would’ve met Gwen.   
  
Something that, no matter how it ended, he wouldn’t trade those years he had with her for anything.

“I used to think about that too,” she says, throwing him out of his thoughts. “Still do, sometimes. When I see you on the news.”

“You keep track of me?” Peter asks lightly, Michelle smirking at him before saying, “It’s kind of hard to avoid you.”

Peter laughs, Michelle’s smirk turning into a grin as he says, “Yeah, that’s gotta be weird.”

“Like you would not believe,” she replies, some of her hair falling over her shoulder in a way that stirs something in Peter’s gut. He swallows that down as she says, “You know for a normal ex, you can just block them. Choose a different coffee shop or whatever.”

Peter laughs before rifling a hand through his hair, noticing that Michelle’s eyes flick to them before meeting his eyes once more, “Can’t really do that for me huh?”

“You have a _cereal_ , Peter,” Michelle deadpans, eliciting a loud laugh out of him, “I can’t go _grocery shopping_ without thinking of you.”

Her words are joking and the teasing between them feels fun but Peter’s a lot more emotionally sensitive than he was back in high school, recognizing the words she doesn’t say. He leans forward with a smile on his face, a smile that only grows louder when his super hearing picks up Michelle’s heartbeat starting to beat a little faster as he says, “Can’t stop thinking about me huh?”

“That’s it. Strike three, you’re out,” Michelle says, pointing her thumb towards the door. “Time to go, Parker.”

She stands, Peter feeling giddy as he plays into the bit - not believing for a second from Michelle’s tone and her body language that she actually intends to kick him out as he stands and says, “Oh come on, ref. Bad call.”

“My apartment, my rules,” she says, raising an eyebrow as Peter takes a step forward. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

“You got home court advantage, MJ. That’s really not playing fair,” he says, eyes steadily trained on her as he takes another step closer, Michelle’s brown eyes so focused on his that it makes his own heartbeat feel like it’s going to pound out of his chest as she takes a step toward him in kind. 

“You’re mixing up your sports metaphors,” she says, her voice thick and her eyes half-lidded as they move even closer together - Peter only inches away from her now. 

“Never really been my thing,” he whispers, Michelle being the one to take the first move as she presses her lips onto his. Peter immediately reaches her, pulling her closer as Michelle does the same - her hands feeling like fire everywhere she touches him. 

It’s all-consuming, the wine he can still taste from his tongue slipping into her mouth, her hands rifled through his hair and over his arms, her body heat radiating against him as their kisses immediately start to get more desperate. 

He hasn’t felt like this in years, like a puzzle piece was slotting into place - something he can’t make sense of even as he thinks it when he pulls her closer. 

Michelle moves in kind, her breathing starting to get heavy until she stops - Peter feeling a little dazed as he looks back at her. 

They stare at each other for a beat, searching each other’s eyes before he feels it, smiling at her as she smiles back. It feels like the most natural thing in the world to laugh, Peter wondering what was causing her to do so as his mind runs through all the improbable circumstances that led him to this exact moment - kissing Michelle Jones in her Brooklyn apartment, almost ten years since he’d seen her. 

Once they start laughing it’s like they can’t stop, an unfettered joy blossoming in his chest at seeing Michelle laugh so hard - though in the back of his mind, he thinks he should probably be offended. 

He doesn’t though, the laughter finally subsiding as they stare at each other - Peter wishing that he could hear what exactly she was thinking as he stares into her eyes. 

He doesn’t have to wait for long when she smiles again, leaning forward to kiss him as Peter leans into it. It’s less of a spark this time and more of a slow ember, relishing in the taste of her lips and the warmth of her palm against his cheek - breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. 

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna seduce me,” he whispers, Michelle laughing again as Peter gently brings a hand to her waist, pulling her a little closer. 

“Thought you were supposed to be out of here,” she whispers back, Peter pulling back to look at her properly once more. 

“Do you want me to go?” He asks, knowing the answer before she even says it as Michelle smiles. 

“Boh.” 

* * *

Peter’s experienced some of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows that life has ever had to offer. He’s seen more people die right in front of him than anyone ever should’ve, died himself in space years and years ago. Peter’s known what it’s like to lose, what it’s like to love - the unimaginable joy in flinging himself off a building, feeling the rush of the wind around him as he swings. 

Yet this moment with Michelle, her breath hot against his ear as he thrusts up into her, Michelle stabling herself by gripping the headboard behind him, her other hand gripping his hair so tightly that it almost hurts as she pants, makes him feel alive in new and impossible ways.

“ _Shit_ ,” she says, breath hitching as Peter steadily pumps his hips, Peter groaning into her neck as she leans her head back - her own hips moving in a chase to the finish.

This hadn’t been what he’d expected when he first saw her again in the gallery but he can’t bring himself to complain, not when she feels so good as he starts to rock into her even harder - Peter barely holding on to his self-control as he feels her finally push over the edge, Michelle exhaling sharply as her arms wrap around his neck and his back. 

The ripple effects of her own peak help propel him towards his own, flipping them till she’s on her back as he dives into her - Michelle letting out a contented sigh when he finally comes undone with a loud moan. 

He collapses next to her, blinking up at the ceiling and feeling better than he has in years - like he’d been searching for something and hadn’t even realized it till he found her again.

It’s not something that he’d say to her, not now at least, knowing that no matter how much Michelle has changed that the cheesiness of that thought would make her laugh. 

But he feels it all the same, looking over to her as his heart beats even wilder at seeing how completely blissed out she is - leaning over to kiss her before he turns back and rolls out of bed. 

By the time he’s disposed of the condom and returned to bed, Michelle is waiting for him with a smile on her face - head propped up against her hand.

“You’re better than I remember,” she says, Peter laughing loudly as he crawls back into bed beside her, Michelle’s own smile giving way to laughter as he says, “I would hope so.”

“You were my first, you know,” Michelle says, Peter brushing a stray curl out of her face. “I lied, back then.”

“I wouldn’t have ever known,” Peter replies, Michelle raising an eyebrow as he laughs and brings his hand down. “You rocked my world.”

“‘Course I did,” she counters, Peter smirking. “Still do, obviously.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Peter whispers, kissing her again. It’s sweeter this time, softer in a way that feels less like a spark or an ember but like a warm fire - billowing out from his chest and warming him from the inside out. 

“You were mine, if that wasn’t clear,” Peter says as he leans back, Michelle rolling her eyes as she says, “Like I said. You’re a lot better than I remember.”

Peter laughs again, only for her face to change slightly - sensing a question behind her eyes but registering the hesitation in it all the same. 

“What?” He asks, Michelle twisting her lips together before she says, “I never expected to see you again. _Really_ see you. I always thought….”

She sighs, Peter waiting as she collects her thoughts. 

“I always thought the next time I’d see you would be your funeral.”

Peter doesn’t know how to answer that just as Michelle doesn’t seem to know where she’s going with it, a part of him inwardly smiling that there was still some of the awkward teenage girl that he fell in love with all those years back still buried deep inside her. 

“I’m sorry, this is really bad pillowtalk.”

“Your apartment, your rules right?” He asks, Michelle rolling her eyes as he continues, “I’m not complaining.”

She smiles at him, her expression softening slightly as he says, “I’m really glad I got to see you again, MJ.”

“Me too,” she says, “I’m a delight.” 

Peter laughs for the thousandth time that night, barely catching her grin as he does - pulling her into a hug as she settles her head across his chest as he leans on his back. 

He wraps his arms around her, gently tracing circles across her arm as he whispers, “You’re the best. Best luck I ever had, wandering into that art gallery.”

Michelle lifts her head up to look at him, Peter smiling at her as her mouth upturns into a smile. 

“Like you won the lottery huh?”

“I wouldn’t go _that_ far,” Peter jokes, Michelle snickering as she says, “Like you hit the _jackpot_?”

“You’re cheesier now, you know that?” Peter says, fingers now entangled in her hair as she leans forward to press another kiss to his lips.

“Hard not to be around you, dork,” Michelle whispers, Peter smiling into the second kiss as he pulls her closer to him.

There’s a part of him that thinks that this felt completely inevitable and yet another that felt like a choice - laughing to himself when he thinks of how giddy he felt in getting Kitty’s number on the subway, the disappointment that he’d felt when Ned cancelled dinner and the curiosity that drove him towards walking into her gallery in the first place.

Peter already knows that number will go unused, that Ned will be excited to find out that he and Michelle reconnected, and that he’ll laugh when he realizes just how close she lives to his apartment to begin with. 

He knows they still have _years_ to catch up on - years of drama, of _trauma_ , of broken hearts and broken dreams, of silly stories and good times that he’s desperate to know all about. 

He wants to tell her everything. Just as he wants to hear about her life - every high and every low that he’d been stupid enough to miss.

Peter’s lived enough to know second chances are a gift, something that he can’t help but feel he’s been given - as cliche as it was. 

He pushes away the ache in his chest and the longing, focusing on the taste of her lips, the warmth of her skin, and the sweetness of being right back in her orbit - something he hadn’t ever realized he’d been missing quite so fiercely until she stepped right back into his life. 

As their kisses start to get more purposeful, Peter moving so that he’s hovering over once more a sense of peace washes over him that he’s not sure he’s felt in a very long time. 

There’s so much more to do and to say, so much more of their lives to unravel and maybe even intertwine. 

Peter doesn’t think of it just then. 

He just decides to enjoy being in the moment, being _together_ , with her. 


End file.
